


Uber Mickey

by JAinsel



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Ian not diagnosed, M/M, Mickey drives an Uber, escort!Ian driver!Mickey AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAinsel/pseuds/JAinsel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did someone call for an Uber?!</p><p>Or, Mickey drives a Uber. He even kind of likes it. Except when he has to pick up a certain redhead escort with his old queens clients...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uber Mickey

**Author's Note:**

> Also available in Russian  
> https://ficbook.net/readfic/5558089  
> Thanks Mary :)

Driving the night shift wasn’t so bad. 

It was better than being bottled up in the day traffic, for sure. There was a nice, calm atmosphere, passing through the nights of Chicago, enveloping the streets in a dark blanket. Mickey also liked to drive his Uber during the night because it usually meant more money. Plus, he didn’t have a family to come home to. Mickey would see his 2-years-old son on Sunday afternoon and take him back to his mother’s place the day after. Sometimes he would miss not  seeing Yevgeny more often, but the thought of finally be able to provide steady money for him was enough to make him feel good about himself.

The other side of the coin of working the grave shift were the people he had to let in his car. For sure, there were good people who were just tired and wanted to go home to sleep as soon as possible. More often than not, however, he would find himself in company of drunkards who partied too much or old farts with young women who definitely were not their daughters, if their tongues in their little girls’ mouths were anything to go by. Mickey was not interested in women, but he was quite disgusted by the way those man would manhandle their escorts. Still, that was none of his business, and he didn’t want to receive a bad rating because he acted on the instinct to smash those gray heads (or dyed, bold or with those few strands of hair along the sides combed over). So yeah, none of his business, please proceed with your lecherous acts.

Things changed, however, when he first met Red.

He received the ping to go and fetch someone at the  _ Margaux _ . That place was some fancy ass restaurant. One of those places you needed to be filthy rich to have dinner there without a few months reservation. Mickey always thought he could put the money spent on such a restaurant on something far more useful. Like paying the bills.

But then again, who fucking cared. The important thing was getting the customer, bringing them to their desired destination, getting the money on his account and fucking off.

Mickey arrived at the pick-up point, looking around to see who his customer would be. He hoped to god it was only an old couple going back to their place. He had already transported three young girls making out with each other with the excuse of drunkenness and making little winks at him.  Like he was fucking interested. The only thing he was interested was a set of earplugs to jam in his ears so he didn’t have to listen to their high-pitched squeals.

An old man approached. Mickey almost sighed in relief. An old man coming home, perfect.

Almost. A second later the old man was followed by a way younger one, with fiery red hair perfectly gelled back. The model followed the man into Mickey’s black car silently. In the rear-view mirror, Mickey let himself staring at the guy: he was stunningly beautiful. Mickey’s eyes ran from his face down his body. Mickey always thought that designer suits were nothing but normal suits with a name on it, but that guy made him think otherwise. He didn’t know who the hell made that suit, but it looked hella expensive. Mickey found himself thinking that every cent was well spent on that guy, who wore it like it had been designed for himself. Apparently, Mickey was not the only one to think that.

“Mn… Curtis, you look so delectable in this Hugo Boss I got you,” the grandpa said. Mickey didn’t know whether to thank the man for giving the guy something to make him even more beautiful (even if Mickey was sure he would’ve been even better without any clothes on) or punch him for drooling all over it.

“Where to?” Mickey asked, rather rudely.

The old man gave him the address, quickly returning his entire attention back to his Curtis. (Curtis?  _ Really? _ With his experience driving old farts with their escorts, Mickey knew it was probably a stage name. Unless Desire and Venus were actually girl’s common names). 

During the route, Mickey couldn’t help himself and looked back several times in the rear-view mirror. Red’s customer (because, yes, there was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that their relationship was based on money), was one of the quiet ones. It was not exactly silent, because he was whispering something into the young guy ear. But he kept his hands almost to himself, restraining himself by only touching Red on the thigh. A little more lasciviously than Mickey would have liked, but always better than a live porno.

Red seemed completely disinterested in his client. He was mostly paying attention to his iphone, texting or writing something, letting the man do whatever he wanted. Mickey guessed that was not Red’s first time, from the way he didn’t winch at the grandpa’s hand rising closer to his crotch. Apparently his iphone held far more appeal than the lecherous old man groping at him.

They  arrived at the desired destination and Mickey pulled over. The man climbed out of the Uber and gave him a tip. Mickey was not used to getting cash, or even less a tip, but it appeared the man was really old guard. Red grab the old man by his arm, heading towards the hotel doors.

An instant before Mickey could press the gas pedal, not taking his eyes off Red, the escort turned his head back and winked at him. 

He fucking  _ winked _ .

 

***

 

The second time Mickey saw Red, it was at the exit of some gay club. Mickey knew exactly the name of the club, the Fairy Tale, but he had never actually gone in before. It was damn cold at that time of the year, with snow accumulating on the side of the road. There were too many people on the sidewalk, so he had to shout

“Did someone call for an Uber?!”

An old queen waved his hand. That is, the one hand that he didn’t have shoved down a boy’s jeans. 

_ Red . _

Mickey immediately recognized the redhead. He was wearing only a green tank top to cover himself from the cold. He looked pretty much out of it. Probably high on something. He was standing straight only thanks to the lecherous octopus grip that man had on him.

“I called an Uber,” said the man, finally freeing the other hand. 

“Well congrat-fucking-lations!” said Mickey brusquely. Way to go Red, another museum piece. He was maybe slightly younger than the first one, but if that one was of the time when the Homo sapiens discovered fire, this one was born when they discovered the wheel.

The old queen froze for a second, shocked by Mickey’s response. But the thought of getting into his escort’s pants hurried him on towards the warmth of the car. He hastily gave Mickey directions to a nice Northern area, and started again with his ministrations on Red.

“Curtis, Curtis… don’t you look so nice…” his attention was completely on the redhead. This time the kid wasn’t looking at his iphone, but at nothing in general. Mickey thought his eyes resembled the ones his sister’s doll had, vitreous and distant. Mickey wondered what he had taken. Then he had to look away when the old queen licked his cheek and ear. Mickey wanted to throw up right that second; instead he tried to focus his attention on the street. Not easy thing to do, considering all the dirty words the old queen was whispering (rather loudly) into Red’s ear. 

He was the handsy type, without a doubt. His octopus hands lingered on every accessible part of the boy, especially resting on his chest and palming his crotch. Red let him, looking blankly out through the window. Red’s attention was rekindled only when the old fart slipped a little pill on his tongue. Then Ian was almost smiling at him, accepting the man’s tongue on his bottom lip, the man’s hands roaming all over his too lightly dressed body. 

“I want you to make me scream tonight…” murmured the wrinkly face.

Mickey wanted to pull over right there, in the middle of the street, but he knew better. He gritted his teeth until they reached their destination and then stopped abruptly.

“Ouch!” the old queen lamented. He was practically straddling (as best as those ancient legs could let him) Red and the hard-breaking caused his head to bump against the roof of the car. Mickey was not going to apologize.

Red got out of the black car, followed by the man. Before the grandpa could reprimand Mickey for his conduct, forcing him to buzz the window open, the pissed off driver grabbed him by his scarf, still seated inside.

“Hey, you I-swear-my-ass-looked-great-in-the-fifties, where the fuck is my tip?” Mickey even tried to maintain his Zen.

“Whaaat? I don’t need to give you a tip!” the old fairy looked back at him with a mixture of shock, disgust and pure fear.  Nice .

Mickey shoved him to give himself the time to get out of the Uber. He took the man by his collar.

“What the fuck did you just say to me? You know what? You’re not only a cheapskate, you also are a fucking pedo who pays a minor to slap his dick in your Botox face. Not to mention the drugs you slipped him earlier.” He saw the shock and disgust leave the old man’s look, and only fear filled his eyes. Mickey smirked. “So, you gonna give me a fucking tip or a shitload of money to your lawyer to get you out of prison?”

Grandpa took whatever money he had on him and threw it at Mickey, before turning to run away. Not before Mickey got the opportunity to kick him on his ass.

“And learn how to run like a dude!” Mickey shouted after him, seeing the gray haired man running away like a ballerina with irritable bowel syndrome.

The man stopped as soon as he opened the front door of the palace he probably resided in.

“Curtis!” he called after the kid.

Mickey turned his head to look at Red, who was leaning against the car, eyes closed but with a smirk on his face.

“I’m nineteen,” he said, opening his eyes to look at Mickey, however clouded.

“Uh?”

“Not a minor.”

Oh, right. “Yeah, well. He doesn’t know, right?”

Red shook his head. “Nah, just met the guy. Happy you got a tip, though.”

The guy detached himself from the steadiness of the Uber to follow his client, when he started to wobble, almost falling on the snow. Mickey reached up to him to grab him in case he would lose his already unstable balance, but it didn’t happen. And the driver didn’t have a reason to touch him.

“You alright, Red?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking, though.

Red looked at him with a dull glare. Then he nodded. He started walking towards the grandpa.

 

***

 

The third time Mickey got to see Red again, happened two Fridays later. He was arm in arm with a way older guy (who would’ve guessed) with a smug face that the driver would’ve loved to pummel.

They were outside the door of a wine bar, where a glass of the alcoholic grape juice was priced by its weight in gold. Red really knew how to pick his men (old as fuck men), all rich fuckers. They probably paid him a lot. And not only because he was young and hot. Maybe he was amazing in bed?

Mickey shook his head. Not the right moment to think about it. In his tiny apartment, on his bed… That was totally another thing,

The two lovebirds climbed in the car and the smug man gave Mickey directions. Mickey was not looking at him, though. His eyes were locked with Red’s. This time the guy was not distracted by his iphone or the drugs and was just staring at him and…

_ What the fuck? Did he lick his fucking bottom lip? _

Mickey had to grab onto the wheel to steady himself. He cleared his throat and started to drive.

Then the porn happened.

Red glanced one more time at the rear view mirror, meeting Mickey’s eyes. The moment after, he was straddling the old fucker, letting the driver appreciate how broad his back was and how tight his ass. Red put his hands on the back seat and leaned in to kiss the man on the mouth. Mickey was not sure how he felt about it: was he aroused by the hot redhead doing the nasty or completely disgusted by the fact that the man under him was a century old? 

The bastard seemed rather pleased by the kid’s attention. His hands moved from his sides, to his waist, to cup that firm ass. Red moaned.

He fucking moaned.

Mickey felt something stir in his pants.  _ Fuck fuck fuck _ . He was definitely aroused. From the mirror he couldn’t even see the old man, but just Red. He would’ve loved to see that scene when Red had been wearing only the green tank top. How sexy his stretched back would’ve looked like that.

Mickey bit a corner of his bottom lip.

_ Fuck fuck fuck… _

“Fuck!”

He almost hit the car in front of them, because he was so distracted by Red’s ass.

“Pay attention!” the straddled man shouted.

Mickey limited himself to flipping the bird at him, hoping he saw it. Pity, the fucker was in blissful ignorance caused by Red’s dry humping.

Mickey knew he could’ve said something. It was in his rights. That was ‘indecent exposure’ or some shit. He could fucking sue the dry humpers. But no. Mickey decided not to risk his life or theirs by reaching the destination without looking at the back than the front of the car anymore.

The sounds of their moans, of lips smashing wetly against one another…. They stopped when Mickey stopped the car.

“We’re here,” Mickey said, noticing how husky and low his voice was. He didn’t even dare to look at the tent he was building in his pants. He took his coat on the passenger seat and put it on his lap.

This time it was the old man himself who gave him a tip. A rather generous one, he was probably fearing the driver would press charges.

Mickey snatched the money immediately. He’d never said no to money.

“And just so you know,” Mickey said “my backseat is not a fucking motel, you old fag.”

The man was silent. Until he noticed the coat on his lap.

“Maybe, but at least you got to enjoy the show,” he replied smugly. Mickey was so going to kill him if he met him outside his job.

“Fuck off!”

The man shook his head and headed for his villa.

Red stayed still. Then leaned against the driver’s window, looking Mickey in the eyes.

“So, is it true?”

“What?”

Red gave him a knowing look. “Did you enjoy it? The show.”

Mickey blushed. Fucking  _ blushed . _ “What the fuck is it to you? Fucking go blow your Geriatric Viagroid.”

“Just thought I’d give you a little preview of my performance.” The redhead smirked. 

The driver shot his eyebrows to his hairline. Eyes wide open.

That seemed enough for Red, who licked his lips, never taking his eyes off him. “Well, good night Mickey,” he greeted the dumbfounded driver. Laughing for that reaction, the escort followed the client home, leaving Mickey in disbelief.

That is, until he noticed his info on the dashboard. Little Red Riding Cock knew too much about him already and Mickey didn’t even know his name.

 

***

 

Mickey saw Red another couple of times. Both of them with the escort doing the nasty with old dudes. Every single time, Red would say “Good bye, Mickey”, before disappearing behind his client of the night. Never once had Mickey mastered his stupid mouth to open in order to ask him his name. But then, who the fuck cared. Right?

That was right until he met Red again a few weeks later, at the backdoor of the Fairy Tale. Glitter on his face. Alone.

Red smiled at him, coming closer.

“No old fucker tonight?” Mickey asked, looking around. They were passed being formal, at least that he knew.

“Nope, just me. Why? That a problem?” Red reached for the door. Not for the backseats. He actually fucking sat on the passenger seat next to Mickey.

“No…” Mickey was still replying, when he found himself side by side with the redhead. “What the fuck!?” He would’ve jumped out of the fucking window, if not for the seat belt still straggling him.

“What?” asks Red all fake innocence. “No rules about where to sit, right?”

Mickey shook his head. “Just gimme the fucking address.”

Red told him and the driver pushed the gas pedal, swearing to God he wouldn’t say a word to the cocky escort. The place was not even far, so he managed that quite well, also helped by the fact that Red kept his mouth closed. Yet he could feel Red’s eyes on him. He almost felt violated, damn.

When he pulled the car to a stop, the driver cleared his throat, hoping his voice didn’t sound too weak.

“So here-”

“You don’t wanna thank me?” Red asked, catching him by surprise.

“What for? Being silent during the ride?”

Red chuckled. “No, for being your personal spunk bank for the last two months.”

Mickey choked on his breath. “Excuse me?” Not that it wasn’t true. But being so blunt about it was more than Mickey could take. He must had ‘guilty’ written on his forehead, and he was probably blushing considered how hot he was feeling, because the redhead smirked and leaned on him.

Red got close to his ear, breath hot and wet. “No? You sure? Because now I feel so embarrassed since I used your tattooed knuckles, imagining it was your fingers stroking my cock. And your mouth? Perfect around it. You gave me some of the best orgasms of my life.” He dared to nuzzle against Mickey’s temple. “And you weren’t even there…”

His arm extended to unbuckle Mickey’s seat belt. After the click, Red placed his hand on top of Mickey’s dick. It was already stimulated by Red’s words. Now, with his hand on it, Mickey could feel he was definitely having a hard-on. 

“C’mon, man…” Mickey tried to say, shoving his hand off him. Red was fast, though. He left Mickey’s cock, to catch Mickey’s hand and put it on his own. Red was already rock hard.

_ Mn. Big. Hot. Want. Sex. Sex. Sex _ . 

“Why? This is my place. I’m inviting you. You don’t wanna? I don’t think that’s it...” Red was keeping Mickey’s hand pressed on his erection, palming himself slowly with it. Mickey was restraining himself not to put his other hand on his own dick. Instead he left it grabbing steadily at the wheel.

“No that’s not…”

“Oh. You don’t fuck a stranger, maybe? I know your name is Mickey. I’m Ian, nice to meet you. Wanna fuck now?” Ian asked.

_ Ian . _

Not Curtis, not Red. His name was Ian. And Mickey was dying to try out that name on his tongue. he felt so stupid by even thinking such a gay thing.

“Uh…” He released his hand from Ian’s grip. “Gotta go. My shift isn’t finished, yet.” He knew his voice was so croaky. 

Ian sighed, raising his hands to surrender. “Alright. I never had to beg for a fuck before, not gonna start now.” He unbuckled his own seat belt. “Still, I waited out like four Ubers before you came to fetch me. I spent a lot on fees, you know?”

Ian shook his head, getting off the car. Mickey watched him walking towards the building. Had he really said no to that piece of ass?

At the front door Ian took out his iphone, dialing something and pressing it against his ear. While waiting for the call to connect, he opened the door.

Mickey was so engrossed in watching him like a stalker that almost didn’t hear his own work phone ringing. He didn’t even look at the caller ID, just picked up the call. Never deflecting his eyes from Ian, who was looking right back at him.

“Apartment 4b.” Mickey heard Ian say and saw Ian’s lips move at the same time. “I could tell you I’ll wait, but I’m not patient.”

He then disconnected the call, entering the building.

Mickey remained still for a good five minutes, fiddling with his phone. 

“Fuck it.”

He texted work to call in sick. Locked the car and with an uber-human speed, and running to the open front door.

Didn’t take that much longer to reach apartment 4B.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again [Soph](http://mapswindsor.tumblr.com) for your editing! <3
> 
> Got any questions? my tumblr my tumblr [JAinsel & the Ships](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jainsel-and-the-ships)


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